Necessary Force
by Aoitori
Summary: Booth and Brennan are up to their usual antics as they work together to bring down a troublesome criminal. One-shot. BB. Please read and review.


Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, nor the characters and stories contained therein. And the world is undeniably a better place for it!

Context: I don't know about you, but my favorite part of many episodes is the chase and capture at the end. For this reason I've taken the opportunity to write a perfectly random one-shot consisting of a "chase and capture" scene from the end of a nonexistent episode. Consider it my attempt to amuse you and test my ability to write Booth and Brennan true to character. For both reasons, reviews are greatly appreciated. The setting is somewhere in season three. Yoroshiku onegaishimasu!

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Necessary Force 

This afternoon's suspect was a slippery little fellow--a circus performer with sticky fingers who had apparently gotten a bit overzealous with at least one of his marks. After more than a few wild-goose-chases, the trail at last lead to his hideout in a partially finished subdivision and, with backup still on the way, it was left to everyone's favorite investigative team to apprehend homicidal little creep.

At the last moment, however, the diminutive murderer managed to slide right out from under Special Agent Seeley Booth's enveloping grasp and he skittered away through the unfinished building like the rat he so much resembled. Booth cursed under his breath.

"Around back, Bones!" He said with a quick gesture to his partner. "Head him off!"

Temperance Brennan didn't need to be told twice. The forensic anthropologist was off at a run immediately, tugging at her purse as she went in the attempt to withdraw the oversized sidearm that she kept there.

"NO GUN!" Booth shouted as he dove in after the perp. "He's UNARMED Bones!"

"Oh! Right!"

He barely heard the reply as they parted ways, but Booth couldn't quite stifle a rueful smile at his partner's antics as he pounded after his quarry.

The smaller man was speedy, but Booth had the advantage with much longer legs, so he had nearly caught up to murderer by the time they reached the other side of the house. They reached a dead-end at a room that would eventually be a bathroom and Booth made a lunge for the perp but was shocked to find himself grasping at empty air. The perp had executed an acrobatic leap and launched himself smoothly through the tiny bathroom window to the outside.

Booth stared in disbelief. "You've gotta be kidding me…" he muttered. The opening was several inches too narrow for his shoulders to fit through, even if he did somehow manage to clamber up there. "Bones, he's yours." He called, as he raced to find the back door.

"Ok!" she called and Booth was satisfied to hear a sharp crack followed closely by a wheeze of pain that was decidedly not his partner's. He kicked out the makeshift door and ran around back to see Brennan still facing off against the apparently rather resilient criminal.

"Give up." The anthropologist was instructing, in her typical, measured tone of voice, "or I'll kick you in the groin."

The suspect seemed to adjust his stance slightly, whereupon Brennan promptly planted an axe-kick to the side of his head. The man was driven to the ground.

"Nice one, Bones!" Booth called, he drew out a pair of handcuffs as he closed the remaining distance between them. "Adjusting your tactics! I like it!"

She was about make a bemused reply, but surprisingly their prey hadn't quite had enough yet. He turned in alarm to see the broad-shouldered FBI agent bearing down on him. Fear overrode pain and he popped up into a low crouch. Grabbing the nearest of many pieces of rusty construction debris from the ground, he launched himself at what he perceived to be the lesser of two threats: the very surprised Brennan.

She watched as, almost in slow motion, the shard of metal siding plunged toward her chest.

"No you don't!" came Booth's almost juvenile reprimand as his hand clamped down on the other man's arm, stopping it's movement completely. With a quick arm-twist the criminal was relieved of his makeshift weapon. Booth grumbled as he slapped the cuff on the offending wrist. "Why do they always..." he was interrupted by the prisoner's next (and last) desperate attempt to free himself as the man spun to the side and plunged another sharp piece of junk into the arm that held him.

"OWCH!" Booth yelped and released his grip as though he had been bitten. The man took the opportunity he thought he had created and darted forward, only to be met with the unyielding force of a huge fist to the jaw. With one right hook from the now genuinely annoyed Special Agent, the troublesome criminal crumpled to the ground and lay quite still.

Brennan's eyes widened and she hesitantly pointed to the unconscious man. "That was..."

"Necessary force." Booth answered decisively as he shook out his fist.

Brennan gave a half smile as she took a knee beside the perp. "He _was_ resisting arrest," she pointed out as she cuffed his other hand and leaned in to check his pulse and vertebrae. 

Booth nodded encouragingly, "_And_ he attacked a federal agent!" he said, putting a little whine in his voice as he pointed to the piece of rusty metal protruding from his forearm. 

"I concur." said Brennan, standing, "It couldn't be helped."

Booth was fingering the piece of metal, apparently contemplating how best to remove it.

"Here, let me see to that." the forensic anthropologist said as she dug into the purse she had somehow kept with her during the chase. She surfaced with a pair of alcohol swabs, a pack of tissues, and a roll of some sort of medical tape.

Booth frowned, "You know Bones, that's really not necessary," he said, backpedaling a bit. "I'll just have it looked at later."

"Of course you will." she said, even as her darting hand captured the arm it sought. "This scrap is _covered_ with iron oxide and unknown particulates." 

"HUH?" he gave her a look of helpless frustration.

She paused to simplify. "It's rusty _and_ dirty," she said. 

He rolled his eyes.

"So you should definitely have it cleaned and maybe..." with that she plucked out the rusty shard in question and simultaneously replaced it with the alcohol swabs, prompting the predictable response:

"OW! Jeez Bones, be gentle, would ya!? That stings like a..."

She continued, quite ignoring him. "...,or probably, you'll need a few stitches."

"Yeah, ok, whatever you say." he muttered by way of dismissal. "Just hurry up, alright? We gotta book this stooge." He nudged the unmoving perp with his shoe.

"You know, Booth." Brennan said as she worked on fastening the tissue pack to his arm. "I had him."

Booth raised an eyebrow.

"I could've taken him down by myself."

Booth raised his free arm in a gesture of innocence. "I never said you couldn't!" he protested. "You were doing your thing, I caught up, I did my thing. Simple as that."

Brennan looked skeptical. "I'm only saying," she continued, putting the finishing touches on her makeshift bandage. "That from where I stood, it looked like you were trying to _rescue_ me again, and I want you to know," she finished and looked him right in the eye, only inches away, "I _didn't_ need rescuing." 

This time he didn't back down either. "What if i was trying to rescue you?" he said with a grin. "We're _partners_ Bones. What are partners for?!" 

"They're for mutual support and cooperative use of complimentary skills and...that wasn't a question was it?"

The tension of the moment was broken and Booth stepped back with a smirk. " No Bones, not really. That would be a 'rhetorical question' (he gestured the quotation marks). Something people just say to..."

" I know what a 'rhetorical question' is Booth," she said with a derisive shake of her head as she turned to put the tape back in her purse. "But I'm a bit surprised that _you_ do." She muttered under her breath. 

"What was that?" asked Booth from where he was now kneeling to hoist the small man over his shoulder.

Brennan didn't miss a beat. "You're going to need a tetanus shot too." She said, looking down innocently.

Booth dropped the perp's arm and stood, his face appeared marginally more pale than it had the moment before. "I will?" his voice was higher than usual too.

"Yes," she began to explain. "The tetanus bacteria lives in nutrient-rich earth commonly associated with rust but not directly related to it. It's standard practice in developed countries to inoculate every..." she paused as she registered the look on his face. "You're..." she lit up with a grin of superiority. "You're afraid of injections!" she said, poking him with a finger to the chest just for emphasis.

"What? No!" He blurted, with self-consciousness that was evident even to one as socially inept as Brennan. "I am not _afraaaaaid_ of shots, ok Bones! I'm just...wary of the possible side effects! On the news and stuff, they're always talking about people getting sick from vaccines and flu shots and…you know...it's dangerous!" His gaze shifted, as he thought to a not so distant event, "And sometimes way too much fun!" 

Brennan gave him a very serious look. "Given your backwards tendencies when it comes to modern technology, it's not much of a quantum leap to accept that you might be similarly backwards about modern medicine." She stood scrutinizing him as he tried to decide whether to be outraged or mollified. "...but I think given your extensive experience in hospitals...and your obvious susceptibility to phobias... (clowns...dentists...) you're probably just afraid."

"Bones! I told you! I'm not afraid of the dentist!"

She raised an eyebrow. "Interesting that you focus on _that_ one."

"OR clowns, OR shots!" He almost shouted. "C'mon, Bones, give a guy a break. It's not like you're one to talk, anyway. Is that a snake over there?" He pointed slightly behind her.

Brennan's rational mind knew instantly, even before her eyes followed his finger, that the logical probability of there being an actual snake behind her was extremely close to zero and that, in fact, she had already noticed a disused garden hose lying somewhere in the vicinity. Of course, none of this mattered in the slightest as her eyes involuntarily tracked across to the scaly-looking, coiled object near her feet: her body acted of it's own accord.

"Aaaaa!" she shrieked, and in one fluid movement she grabbed Booth and leaped behind him.

Booth choked down a laugh as Brennan recovered immediately and punched him in the shoulder.

"You're_ mean_ Booth! That's just..._mean_!" 

Booth smiled and ducked down to avoid any further blows, moving again to hoist the downed suspect. "I'm sorry." he tried to maintain a serious affect by avoiding her gaze as he slung the man over his shoulder. " I just..." he stood up and made the mistake of looking at her scowling face. He smirked again, involuntarily, "I'm sorry."

"It's not _funny_ Booth!" she complained, as they walked toward the front of the building side by side. "I didn't try scaring you with a real clown!" she pointed out vehemently. 

"And that," he pointed out, "wasn't a real snake."

She exhaled a sigh of frustration. "I can get a syringe, you know." She made a mock-needle with her hand. "Don't make me stick you!" She poked him hard in the side. 

"Hey, easy there Bones!" He complained with a smile, side-stepping away.

A groan from the prisoner caught their attention.

"Welcome back, pal!" Booth said cheerfully, "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…" And Booth continued to mirandize him as they walked away.


End file.
